Closure
by fer1213
Summary: My Spuffy fanwank on what happens next. Spoilers for Angel 5x22.


**Closure**

Buffy hung up the phone.  It was a call she'd been expecting for months now.  She just didn't think it'd be about _this_.  Actually, considering it, she shouldn't be surprised.  Apocalypses tended to crop up this time of year.

"What are you going to do now?" she'd asked him.

"Something I've wanted to do for more than a bloody century."

"Spike.  You know we're going to have a very long talk when this is over, don't you?"

"Counting on it, love," he'd said.  Then he was gone.

Buffy picked up the phone again.  She had her own calls to make.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She showed up in the thick of it, fifty Slayers strong and with Faith at her shoulder.  They quickly assessed the situation.

"Damn," Faith said.  "I didn't know dragons really _did_ breathe fire."

"Watch your more flammable parts," Buffy told her.

With a nod from Buffy, her troops got down to the killing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hours later, the smoke finally cleared and the demons either lay dead or were running away in fear. 

"Buffy!" Faith called.  "This blue chick says she's on our side.  The dude she's guarding needs help."

"Bring him to the hotel with the others," Buffy told her.  "It's time to find Angel in this mess."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Buffy helped carry her wounded Slayers into the Hyperion lobby.  They'd lost twelve.  Buffy felt herself detaching again, like she had at the closing of the Hellmouth.  Casualties in war, Spike had said last year.  At least this time, those who'd died were fully trained Slayers who knew death was more than likely in the job description.

"Anyone seen Angel?  Or—Spike?" she asked the room.

"Spike's alive?" Rona asked.  "How did that happen?"

Buffy ignored her.  She'd caught sight of Angel's dark and broody form.  She made her way through the injured to get to him.

"Angel," she said.

He turned.  "Buffy.  Thanks for the help.  I didn't mean for you to get involved."

"Let's not even get into the whole 'I can't believe you were having me watched' thing, okay?  Let's just say, you helped out in my apocalypse.  It was time to return the favor."

"So, rumblings in the underground send you to us?"

"No.  A phone call.  From Spike."

Angel's eyes widened for a second.  "Oh," he said.

"Where is he, by the way?" Buffy said, attempting casual.

"He's helping Illyria with Gunn—back there," Angel said.

Buffy looked at him and smiled a little.  "Despite everything, it's always good to see you."

"You too, Buffy.  Always."

She nodded and moved past him, knocking on the door behind him.

"Enter," she heard a woman's deep voice answer.

Buffy pushed the door open slowly.  And there he was.  Bloody.  A little broken.  Glorious.

"Spike," she said.

He looked up from his bandaging.  The man Faith had seen in the alley was lying there, very still, while Spike tended to him.  Gunn?  And the blue woman must be Illyria.

"Buffy.  God," Spike said.  He finished his first aid and stood.  "Thanks for coming, Slayer."

"Slayer," Illyria said.  "Interesting.  I will watch Gunn.  Your presence is no longer needed, Spike."

"Thanks, Highness," Spike said.  He came to stand before Buffy.  "Time for that talk then?" he asked her.

He led her out of the room and into a courtyard outside the hotel.  They sat side by side on a bench and stared at the dry fountain in front of them.

"So, it's really you, then," Buffy finally said.

"Yeah.  It's me in the undead flesh.  Which is rather disappointing, really, because here I was thinking since Angel didn't Shanshu it'd be me who became the real boy."

"Spike, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Nothing.  Nothing important, love."

"'Love'.  You call me that yet you couldn't pick up a phone to tell me you were back.  I had to hear it from Andrew."

"Yeah.  'Bout that…"

"And that was a couple months ago.  So I'm thinking, he must know Andrew would tell me.  Andrew can't keep a secret to save his life.  That must mean Spike's moved on.  And I guess that means I should too."

"Buffy…"

"Wait.  Let me get this all out first."  She held her hand up, stopping his words.  "So I did.  I found myself an irresistible, witty, not-mortal guy with intense eyes, a great body and an accent.  And then it hits me.  I was trying to replace you."

"You were trying to replace me with The Immortal?" Spike almost squeaked.  "No bloody way!  Wait 'til Angel hears this…"

"Shut up, will you?  I'm trying to say something here."

Spike took Buffy's hands in his own.  "I know what you're trying to say.  You're mad.  You have every right.  But you didn't really mean what you said that last day, did you?  At least not more than 'let's be mates'?"

"Spike, you're an ass.  Have I ever said those words lightly?  God.  How could you not believe me?"

"Guess I was just so used to you denying those words when it comes to me."

Buffy closed her eyes and was silent.  "Touché," she said after a moment.

"Communication's never been our strong point, has it?" Spike asked.

"That's true enough."  Buffy grabbed his chin and looked into his eyes.  "So let me be very clear about this.  I love you, you undead asshole.  I love you."

Spike swallowed and his nostrils flared.  Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, pouring all the months of missing her into it.  She kissed him back, just as hard and just as deep.  And he finally believed.

When they broke apart, there were tears in her eyes.  He brushed one away with his thumb.  "Sorry, love."

"That's okay," she said.  "We have years for you to make it up to me."


End file.
